


If you can't do good, better do bad well

by Lookatallmyships



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Demonic Miracles, Fix-It, Hastur is not soft, Hastur is pretty broken up about it, He gets better, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ligur is still dead, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Post-Apocanix, beelzebub is that cool boss who doesnt give a shit what you do as long as the work gets done, but its ok, fluff-ish, he has a reputation to uphold, vaguely described occult book, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookatallmyships/pseuds/Lookatallmyships
Summary: What if there was a way to bring a demon back- even one who was killed by holy water?
Relationships: Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from KSHMR's song "Do Bad Well" (ft. Nevve). I actually discovered this song through an Innefable Husbands playlist on Apple Music.

Death was something you rarely think about as a demon. After all, not many things can truly kill an occult being. Inconveniently discorporate, yes, but that's really more of a minor annoyance than anything else.

Hastur and Ligur had both dealt with that a few times in the past, the most notable example having occurred while they were on a mission to corrupt some bigwig executive of a wealthy insurance agency.

Privately, Hastur thought that the man was already well on his way to being theirs solely on his own merit, but the management downstairs is nothing if not thorough. One more soul claimed by their side means one less claimed by the opposition, and so on and so forth.

They demons had been lurking in a nearby alley while they waited for the man to leave for his lunch break, when a delivery truck came careening around the corner. Just as the two demons spotted their mark and stepped out onto the sidewalk to follow him, the truck plowed directly into them before striking the building next door.

While management kicked up quite the fuss about having to issue them new corporations, it hadn’t bothered them all that much. Sure tempting humans was fun, but a few weeks stuck downstairs until they were through being punished for their carelessness wasn't much of a hardship.

The mission had been a success anyway. After witnessing the accident, the man received a new helping of trauma to deal with, as well as renewed belief that first and foremost, everyone had to lookout for their own interests in this world. He’d be theirs in twelve years' time.

But this... this was different.

Ligur had been hit with holy water. Hastur didn’t know how that bastard traitor Crowley had gotten ahold of it, but it didn’t matter. He murdered a fellow demon, knowing full well the consequences.

You get doused with enough holy water as a demon and that’s it. No one is quite sure where a demon goes after being destroyed once and for all, but they all agreed on one thing: that it was permanent.


	2. Chapter 2

Demons don’t read, almost as a rule. It isn’t forbidden or anything, but why crack open a dusty old book when you could be torturing souls or out tempting humans towards falling into Hell’s pocket? You’d sooner find a torture chamber or a dark alcove covered in suspicious stains, then a library full of soft light and comfy chairs meant for whiling away the hours with a good book in hand.

However, hell does have a small collection of texts- most of them older than anything you’d find in your typical library. Some demon had come up with the idea of writing down important information such as new torture methods or ways to get under a fresh soul’s metaphorical skin ages ago (“What would your loved ones think of you getting sent down here? Surely they’d be horribly disappointed in you”), and it had caught on with a select few.

Mixed in through these chronicles of torture, were a handful of books on satanism and other dark arts that Hell had deemed interesting enough to hold on to. (And having been written by humans, that was saying something. Not many made the cut.)

Hastur had been lurking around Hell (it was never the same by himself, lurking had come to mean having a second shadow by his side and another body to share disdainful looks with) and occasionally terrifying any demon who dared look at him funny, when he overheard some low-level demon telling another about a mark she had recently corrupted. Apparently the man had an entire room in his house dedicated to occult texts, spellbooks, and biographies on the likes of Aleister Crowley and Grigori Rasputin.

At first Hastur had discredited their words as annoying background noise, but then he got an idea.

Hastur waited until Beelzebub settled into their evening meal, before he slunk down to the book vault. Being a duke of hell meant that he hardly had to ask permission for such a thing, but Hastur has got a reputation to uphold. 

It takes him over an hour to find the text they had been talking about. Demons were far from organized at the best of times and few of them even bother to come down here, let alone create some kind of filing system.

It takes getting covered in dust and far more paper cuts than he’s willing to admit, but Hastur finally finds the book he’s looking for. It’s an old one, bound in what appears to be leather with a picture of a skull stamped into the cover. A bit of the nose if you ask him, but at least it makes the book easily identifiable.

Thankfully the book is written in English, because using a miracle to translate the text would leave more of a paper trail than Hastur wants attached to this whole endeavor. (Hastur can speak English, Latin, and very rudimentary Spanish, but he's never seen much sense in wasting time learning all the various languages that humans use. It's not like he spends much time _talking_ to them anyway. No, that can be saved for the likes of the traitor and his winged compatriot).

Hastur finds the ritual he’s looking for towards the back of the book. The instructions are a bit vague and the page has what appears to be blood spattered on it, but it’s readable and that’s good enough. It’s short work sneaking the book out of the room and even shorter work telling Beelzebub that he’s planning to head topside and spread a few demonic temptations. Technically he’s supposed to check in with the prince about such things, but Beelzebub could care less what he does with his time as long as the corruption of human souls gets done. Why bother concerning themselves with the details?

Hastur picks an abandoned warehouse in some random part of London. His only requirement is that it be empty so he won’t be disturbed. The building looks like it should have been demolished years ago, so he figures it's rather unlikely that anyone will be coming within 100 feet of the place anytime soon. A building inspector would have a field day upon being set lose in here.

The duke of Hell checks and rechecks the list to make sure he has everything he’ll need. He most likely could miracle up anything he may have forgotten, but he really doesn’t want there to be any evidence of what he's been doing, should his plan fail. He may not give a damn what anyone thinks of him, but Hastur would rather permanently discorporate himself than endure the mix of pitying and mocking looks he'll likely receive for the rest of eternity should word get out.

If he succeeds- well. If Hastur succeeds then none of that will matter.

The spell-work itself is actually rather anticlimactic. He draws the summoning circle in goats blood before scattering a combined mixture of dirt from a desecrated grave, the bones of a crow, an angel’s feather (quite hard to come by, those), and the blood of a saint over top of it.

Don’t even ask how he’d acquired those things. It had taken the demon cashing in a few favors that were owed to him, which was really rather boring. It was much more fun to let people sit with the anxiety of wondering when he would come to collect their debt and what he would ask for when he does.

The last step is to throw a lit match into the circle while reciting a few lines of ancient text provided by the book.

At first nothing happens, but then the sigil suddenly ignites along with everything inside of it, creating a six foot tall ring of fire along the circle’s border.

Taking a cautious step back from the flames, Hastur watches as it burns fiercely for a few moments before suddenly going out. The flames recede into the ground, revealing a circle that is now empty of Hastur’s offerings. In their place, is a familiar figure crumpled on the floor.

Hastur will never admit the sound he makes when he tentatively reaches out with his awareness and feels the spark of life coming from the other demon.

The way Hastur runs over and drops down besides the other demon will likely also be kept to himself, thank you very much. Ligur is unconscious which concerns Hastur a bit, but he can’t even begin to imagine what the other demon has been through. Was true death for a demon simply an empty nothingness, or was it... something worse? He’s in the middle of patting the shorter demon down in search of injuries, when Ligur’s eyes blink open slowly. He groans and looks around the room for a moment before tipping his head back to look up at Hastur.

“What happened?”

Hastur laughs and clutches the other demon to his chest.

Confused, Ligur pats his friend on the shoulder. “Not that I’m complainin’, but mind telling me where I am?”

Hastur shakes his head and clutches him a little tighter. “I’ll explain in a minute. Why don’t you start by telling me what you remember?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Ligur will need a couple minutes to get his head straight, but once it clears he'll remember everything. After Hastur gets over the initial shock of the ritual actually having worked, there will definitely be a few tears shed. One thing's for sure, he's not letting Ligur go any time soon.
> 
> Can you tell that I don't live in the UK by the way I avoided saying where exactly the warehouse is located?


End file.
